And I collect up the words
And put them in a stack
I stick them in the wardrobe
Right at the back
Words I have no use for
No place said out loud
I won’t be using them
Not even in a crowd
Words like ‘averment’
Ones I refuse to write
I’ve put them in the wardrobe
They are out of sight
I can’t tell you what they are
You can never know
I have made them disappear
I have made it so
And now when
There are things I need to say
I will have fewer words
Because I put some away
Now I will be concise
Brief and to the point
You can be all wordy
But I will not be drawn
I will say it shortly
I will say it short
My words will all have meaning
A sprint and not a walk
I think that I have said it
What I want to say
I have put them in a box
I won’t let them play
And yet I keep on writing
8 stanzas in the end
I thought that if I hid them
My writing might amend
But my pen just keeps on working
Like each sentence adds a thought
I can’t seem to stop
Even though I know I ought
I have had an idea now
I know what to do
I will burn the pen
And my notebook too.